


Trade Deadline

by Yadirocks



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-29 08:07:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17804246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yadirocks/pseuds/Yadirocks
Summary: Vladi is playing like a man possessed, and Petro is pretty confident it's because of the trade deadline.





	Trade Deadline

"Vladi is mad."

"Aren't all Russians?"

It was almost the trade deadline. All of the players were a little more on edge than usual. Pietrangelo knew he wasn't safe from the chopping block either. In fact, the thought shook him to his core. He was the captain, after all, and Petro felt like he owed it to the men sitting around him in the locker room to stay calm. That's what Backes had always done. His shoes had been hard enough to fill, but the team had been on a steady decline ever since the offseason of 2015, when the Blues had parted ways with Moose and Backs and Brouwer and a slew of other good guys. Still, even though he was scared about the deadline, he couldn't imagine what Vladimir Tarasenko was going through.

The Russian had been in the talks for a trade over the last month, though Petro didn't understand why. The talks had died with the arrival of Jordan Binnington, who brought with him an 8-game winning streak that had put the Blues in third place. Before that, they had barely been in contention. Now, they were a force to be reckoned with. Still, Vladi never took these things lightly. He was an assistant captain, so he felt the weight of the losses almost as much as Alex did. Tarasenko didn't like to lose, but that wasn't the only reason why he was upset. When they had been losing, those that hadn't blamed the goaltending decided to point the blame elsewhere, AKA the man who despite trying his best, was doing just as poorly as the rest of the team. Superstar hockey players that fall to average for any amount of time are often scorned. 

Of course, no one in the locker room dared to talk about the trade deadline. It was definitely an elephant in the room, but due to tradition (or rather, superstition) no one ever said anything about it. Players stuffed down their fears and worries into their duffel bags and took it home with them later in the night. The rink was no place for fear.

However, if anger is what it took to get Vladi to perform the way he was, then they needed to make him angry more often. The Russian had been all over the ice over the winning streak, putting up 16 points in 10 games. He had absolutely no reason to be worried, in Petro's opinion. Then again, Alex knew deep down that he had no reason to be worried either, but there was still that hint of doubt that would keep him near a phone on that dreaded day.

"I think one of us should talk to him," Alexander Steen said quietly. "Just to make sure he's okay, that there isn't something else going on besides..."

He trailed off, but everyone knew the ending to that statement. Schwartz tugged on his right skate with the laces as he said, "I know Vladi. Even if there is something wrong, getting him to talk about it is the last thing you want to do. All that pent-up rage is bound to come out at some point, so it's best to just let him focus it on beating the crap out of the other team."

Jaden had a point. This wasn't the first time that Vladi had been obviously mad about something, and it did give him that extra burst of adrenaline on a breakaway at the end of it all, if nothing else. Still, Petro knew that as the leader of the team, if there was something upsetting Vladi, he should at least remind him that he could talk to him. 

Alex's eyes danced to the other end of the locker room, where Vladi was wrapping tape around his stick, clearly preoccupied. "I'll talk to him after the game," Petro said, returning his eyes to adjusting the straps on his helmet. "I'll let him beat the crap out of this team first."

And Vladi did beat the crap out of the other team, which was the Colorado Avalanche. At first, he had stayed off to the side, just doing the small things that it took to win games (finishing the check, battling on the boards, making solid passes, etc.) It wasn't until Girard hit him from behind. The game had been tied 1-1 in the second. Vladi was battling on the boards, and he won the battle against MacKinnon. He made a solid pass to O'Reilly, and it wasn't until the puck was clear across the ice that Girard checked him in his blind spot. 

"Oh shit," Petro said as Vladi fell to the ice. Immediately, the Russian got back up, though his skates were going just a little faster than before. His glare was set on Girard, but his body was going towards the puck.

Schwartz snickered beside him. "This is going to be fun," he muttered.

Seconds later, Tarasenko caused a turnover in the defensive end. His legs glided across the ice faster than Petro had ever seen them. He toe-dragged the puck around one defenseman, then deked around MacKinnon, showing off his puck-handling skills. He crossed the red line, just one more Avalanche player in his way. Girard. Vladi's eyes never left the goalie, and the goalie's eyes never left the puck. No goalie could've stopped what Vladi did.

Varlamov moved to the left side of the crease to prepare for the shot, leaving the right side unattended until Girard glided into the spot to cut off any shot. Vladi knew better than to try to rifle the puck in whatever small opening there was. He was a sharpshooter, but he was also an intelligent hockey player. His eyes saw Girard's skate cutting close to the goal. He shot the puck at Girard, who wasn't expecting the puck to come at him like it did, nor was he expecting it to bank off of his skate and into the empty net on the right side.

The bench leaped up to celebrate the goal and the lead, all thanks to Vladi, who was being mobbed by the players that had been on the ice for the goal. Petro watched him smile as he was congratulated and given helmet pats, and he gave him a punch on the back as he went through the handshake line. 

The game ended 2-1, which was closer than their previous games had been, but they would take the 9-game winning streak and the 2 points every day of the week. Pietrangelo was interviewed after the game, and so was Vladi, so by the time that all of the reporters had cleared out, it was just himself and the First Star of the Game left in the locker room, packing up their things. This, Alex decided, was the time to talk to Tarasenko.

"Great goal today," Petro said, giving Vladi a smile. "Seems like they get more entertaining each game."

Tarasenko returned the smile as he stuffed his skates into his duffel bag. "Thank you. You had a great game today too. Good team win."

Why was Vladi talking to him as though he were a reporter pestering him with questions? Alex shook this off and said, "I know that we don't talk about it all that much here, but....they would be stupid to trade anyone on this team. Especially you."

Vladi frowned. "What?" he asked. 

"The trade deadline is coming up. And you've been playing like you're mad at everyone lately. No offense, you play great when you're mad. I just wanted to make sure you're okay and that the deadline isn't weighing too much on your mind. That's all," he said.

Tarasenko stared at him for a long time. Then, he chuckled. "Honestly, Alex," he said. "I forgot that that was coming up."

Pietrangelo frowned. "If that's not what's bothering you, then...what is?" he asked.

A shrug. "Nothing," Vladi answered. "I hate losing. Not losing makes me feel better."

Alex was a little shocked. Vladi lugged his bag over his shoulder, and it was only then that Petro saw it. It was so teeny tiny that he almost missed it and he would've dropped the conversation completely, but when he did see it, there was no mistaking it. A wince. 

"Are you hurt?" Petro said, his voice unwillingly rising in concern. He wanted to hit himself. How had he managed to mistake Vladi's pain for anger? It made a little more sense now. The hit from Girard had hurt Vladi...or maybe he had already been hurt...

"No," Vladi responded shortly, and he started to turn to go out the door, but Petro stopped him in his tracks when he said, "We can't afford to lose you right now."

Vladi stood in the doorway to the locker room. Petro put a hand on his shoulder. "I understand if you don't want to tell me about it, but you should tell a trainer. I know that being hurt absolutely sucks. I get it. But so does losing someone like you for longer than we have to," Petro said. 

Finally, Tarasenko sighed. "I will tell them tomorrow," he whispered, and he met Pietrangelo's eyes as if to say 'I promise'. Alex squeezed his shoulder. "Good. Now go rest up."

After he heard the door close behind Vladi, he shook his head and muttered, "Poor kid." Still, he hoped that Vladi would keep his promise. They were about to be in the middle of a race for playoff positions. Losing a guy like Tarasenko could be extremely costly. Losing anyone on the team would have some sort of negative impact, and they had so much to hope for now that it felt like they were just waiting for something to go wrong. Pietrangelo picked up his own bag with his own sigh. Hopefully, he had just bought them some time before that happened.


End file.
